Solace
by Dr. Pepper's Peach
Summary: Sometimes, one meeting is enough to take away the numbness. Betrayal is a cruel, cruel thing. An experiment with all-human characters. Series of one-shots telling a story of love and healing.
1. First Meetings

**Disclaimer: Twilight and Vampire Diaries belong to their respective owners. **

**Warning: This chapter fits into the 'T' Rating, but please read with caution. Young eyes should avert~**

**Enjoy.**

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><p>The floor underneath my feet pulsates with the vibrating rhythm of the loud "Turn me on" by David Guetta song. My sensitive eardrums no longer react to the piercing sound waves. Instead of flinching like my first night of working here, I welcome the stabs of pain as a reminder of being alive <em>despite<em> being dead. I smirk and wink appropriately as the ladies deliberately pass by the bar, making sure to put an extra sway into their hips, adjusting their tops to show more cleavage. They no longer generate interest. It's just another woman in another location, and maybe another bed if we go to her place, and it's only a few moments of exhilaration before I'm back at square one, and that's being numb. I used to find solace in them, but even that has been snatched from me.

"Hey, handsome," Rose greets me, snatching up a wet, clean beer mug to dry. "How're you holding up the fort?"

"I'm surrounded by some of New York's most gorgeous women. It's heaven," I tell her with a smirk.

She rolls her eyes and I know she sees through me, but we have a cool relationship going. I don't need to talk to her about anything, but she'll still know what I want to say. She lets me live in my delusional world where everything is fine, and my jaded mind is never brought up.

"Found your partner for tonight, yet?" she asks, smiling flirtatiously at a costumer to get that extra tip.

"Still looking," I respond.

The bar end gets busy as the club fills out more, and Rose and I are unable to talk further, but it's okay, because I know I'll end up at her apartment later on this week, confessing over drinks.

The club fills out more and more as the hours go past 9. Fridays are always the busiest. _Carnal Desires_ is the kind of club just as the name suggests. Whether the customers come in for drinks to satisfy their desires for the night, or to forget about problems in their lives and just be someone else entirely, or whether they come in to find a partner for the night; it's New York Square's hottest place, and two years ago, I had thought I was a lucky son of a bitch to have gotten a job.

Betrayal after betrayal had lead me to quit University of Duke's extension School of Law program in Mystic Falls and move away to a city as different from the small town as could be; my first thought had been: New York City. Before the sunrise of next day, I had my bags packed, bank account wiped clean, and ready to begin a new life. I hadn't realized the nightmare would follow me through. I live in a gorgeous city, with an expensive apartment in a hotel where cooking, cleaning, everything is done by a maid, and a doorman opens both doors and elevators. I live the life everyone in this city wants, yet as soon as I'm out of eyesight of others, there's never a smile on my face.

I signal Rose to take care of the patrons standing by the bar awaiting their drinks, and head off towards the side, where a group of giggling women wait for compliments.

I approach them with a smirk, and their giggling increases. They're too easy. "Ladies," I agree them, keeping my eyes on theirs in turn; baby blue meeting green, brown, brown, blue.

"Damon," they all say simultaneously.

I lift each of their hands and press a gentle kiss to the back, allowing their sweet lotion smell to invade my senses. A humorless smile flits across my lips unintentionally when the smell has no effect on me. It's not even disappointing anymore; I've been robbed of that feeling, too.

"Come dance with us," the blonde in a skin-tight tiny red dress purrs, her hand lifting to play with the top button of my shirt. She steps closer to me, touching her body length to mine.

I glance back at Rose, and she give me the look that says "don't you dare," and I know better than to defy her. She'd throw anything that comes into her hand if I piss her off tonight, even if its full, heavy bottles of expensive whiskey. That wouldn't bode well for Charlie, nor me.

"I would, but if my boss saw me, he'd kill me," I reply, jutting out my bottom lip into a small pout.

They all sigh, and the brunette steps closer to my other side, her silky black dress shimmering with her moments, and she trails her index finger from side to side on my bottom lip. I wrap my arms around both women by my side.

_Nothing_. I feel _nothing_ anymore.

"You've never cared about what he'd do to you before," the brunette says, her own lip pulling out into a pout, and she's right. I don't care what Charlie thinks. I'm the reason why there are so many women in this club right now, and that's the reason he pays for my expensive living.

"Damon," Rose calls out from behind me when she knows I'm ready to get back to my job.

"See you around." I wink at them, before stepping away and walking to where Rose is standing, the bar patrons having doubled.

I grab a towel, quickly wiping away a small amount of spilled alcohol, and start taking the orders immediately afterwards, staying busy for a good hour or more after that.

Rose sits on the silver ground table before the bottles of different types of alcohol, groaning. "I hate rushes."

"Be glad you're not alone."

"You don't have to worry. I'm a human, and you're not. You can work without feeling any pain, I swear."

"Pity I can't show my superpowers to these mortals," I joke.

She whips me with the towel against my thigh, before getting off of the table and heading to another customer. I manage to flick her black, spiked, pixie like hair before she's able to move too far from me.

I lean against the wall by the exit door, my heading gently thumping against the wall because of the loud music vibrating the entire place.

My eyes shut, and I am no longer _startled_ by the images I see contorting to my worst nightmare behind my closed eyelids. From my father yelling about my non-existent incompetency, to Katherine leaving my at the alter because she wanted to go after her soon to be brother-in-law, to Stefan losing his trust in me…giving up on me.

A soothing, calm smell reaches my senses, the kind that I could remember smelling at the Mystic Falls beach when walking by the shore with my mother. For the first time, a visual of my mother holding my hand, while I jumped around the beach shore, squealing when the cold water hit my tiny feet comes behind my closed eyelids. For the first time, I don't see everything that's wrong, but something that was right in my past.

My eyes burst open, desperately trying to search out the object of my _solace_. I look from one woman to another, trying to find one that looks for someone I've never seen before, yet the one who'll be so _familiar_.

"Hey, Damon," Rose calls me over to her with a wave of her hand. "I need you to help my newly-made friend win a bet."

"Bet?" I ask her, before glancing up at the woman on the other side of the bar. I blink, and then blink again, and then shake my head to clear my mind of the fog that settles in for a few seconds. Long brown hair in curls is what I notice first; then my eyes move lower, to her brown, sparkly eyes surrounded with thin eyeliner, to her cute button nose, and then to her red-painted lips. She's wearing a blue silk tank top, tucked into a short skirt that starts at her waist and ends a few inches above her knees, the color of her top creating a nice hue against her pale skin. I imagine running my hands through the length of her body, my lips seeking the softness of her skin, and for the first time in a long time, I let myself hope that I'll be able to feel her, and that she'll bring my numb body to life.

I don't say anything, but I don't have to say anything, because her eyes pierce into me like they're looking right into my soul. I suddenly feel stripped, even with my defenses up, so I bring forth my hand to introduce myself before she can read too much into me.

"Damon."

She smiles sweetly at me, showing a straight line of pearly white teeth, before shaking my hand. "Bella."

"Nice to meet you, Bella. Enjoying your Friday night so far?" I ask, trying to be nice to the first female Rose has liked since forever.

"I am, actually. This is very different from my hometown," she replies, her eyes glazing over a little as if from nostalgia.

"Do you live here or are you on vacation?"

"I live in New York. We're just out here today to let loose."

I smirk. "Busy year?"

"Yup. Finished my Masters degree."

"In?"

"English and Literature."

"What do you plan on doing with that degree?"

"I'm a Senior Editor for the New York Daily Post newpaper."

I realize after my eyebrows shoot up in surprise how this action might come across. "You've just graduated and you're already holding a Senior post?"

"What can I say? I don't like to boast," she says with a wink. I inwardly smile.

"What was this about a bet, now?"

Bella crosses her arms on the bar in front of her, leaning in close, her expression fitting into a mock guilt one, as if she's about to spill a big secret. "My friends over there," she points to a table by the stage where two other females are sitting, "don't think I can get you to do a body shot."

I smirk, my eyes not leaving hers. "Depends on who I'll be doing the body shot on."

She pretends to think for a moment, biting her bottom lip. "How about me?"

"Where do you want to do this, baby girl?"

She smile slyly again, and shrugs. I turn to Rose, who is smiling smugly at me, and ask her to cut up some lemon wedges. I put the salt shaker on the bar top, and get a few shots of Johnnie Walker Blue Label ready. The rush has left, and when I look at the clock, it's approaching nearly 11:30pm. There aren't many people, but the sight of me taking a shot off of a beautiful woman isn't rare to cause people to gawk. Only regulars stay this late, and they all know me.

She lays down on the bar top, but doesn't pull her shirt out of her skirt. Her cheeks are covered in a shy pink hue and she's biting her bottom lip in nervousness, but her eyes tell an entirely different story…mischief. She's not shy, she's seductive. She's just manipulating her body language to hide what her eyes tell me…they tell me that she's looking forward to this as much as I am looking forward to putting my lips on her sensitive skin.

I smirk at her, moving my hand to lightly caress her thigh, enjoying the quiver that passes through the length of her body. Her friends have moved closer and are watching with ruptured interest. I've never seen the Blondie or the Shorty before, and neither have I ever seen this brunette. They're new here, to the club, and most likely the city; otherwise, every person who has lived in New York City for over a month has once visited Carnal Desire. At least those are the statistics Charlie keeps giving us.

I press down my finger on her skin, my smile widening as the blood rushes to her skin. I trail down that finger with the same amount of pressure from her upper thigh towards the inside of her knee, allowing the red skin to mark my path, allowing her skin to get more sensitive when I get to the actual shot.

She lies there quietly, her eyes trained on my form without moving, and her legs part a little as my head lowers to trail a line of wet kisses down the reddened skin. Her lotion smells unlike any other I've ever smelt on a woman; it's not sweet or flowery, but cool and soothing, something that I welcome. I pull away too soon, because she whimpers, so low that only I can hear, and that sound makes my stomach flutter for some reason. The feeling is so unfamiliar that I'm caught off guard for a few seconds, closing my eyes. Apparently it's been more than just a few seconds because I can feel her soft, soft fingertips on my cheek. My eyes open, the feeling in my stomach is gone, and so are fingertips, but the warmth is still left on my cheek, proof that my delusional mind isn't setting me up for another disappointment.

My right hand grabs the salt shaker, pouring it over the wet trail on her thigh. She's expecting the whiskey shot glass in her mouth, but I tip it over at the last minute, surprising her with the coldness of the alcohol hitting her collarbone, gathering between the prominent bones, some spilling, making a circle around her neck. She's fast, though; she prevents her knee-jerk reaction and doesn't move.

I put a lemon wedge between her lips, and lick the whiskey that has spilled across her neck, making my way to her collarbone. With a kiss, I suck up the whiskey on her skin, and swallow it, and moving then towards her thigh. I lick up the salt, moving from near the inside of her knee to the top of her thigh, leaving little bites. My eyes lock with hers as I move slowly closer to her lips, keeping my head close to her, allowing my chin to touch the length of her body, from her thigh to her hips, to her waist, over her breast, and then to her lips. I curl my lips backwards to grab the lemon wedge, permitting just a tiny bit of contact between her lips and mine, enough to make her want more, yet not enough to satisfy her.

The sound of clapping and whistling pulls me out of my fixated trance, and I pull back, helping her down from the bar, before heading back behind it, where Rose stands with her arms over her chest and an eyebrow cocked.

"What?" I ask her, keeping the defensive tone out of my voice.

"Interesting," she says, drawing out the first syllable almost in a cartoon-character voice.

I say nothing, but clean up the mess, getting ready to leave as my shift ends. I try not to think about that soothing smell of ocean that had radiated off of Bella earlier, but it's useless, so I try harder. There's this electricity at the tip of my fingers, and I've spent so much time trying not to get my hopes up to feel something, that this sudden invasion of feeling over the numbness in my body startles me to the point of discomfort.

I feel eyes on me, and I turn to see Bella standing as her friends gather their stuff to leave. She gives me a smile, one that I can't return because my feelings are all over the place and I'm suddenly left feeling overwhelmed, exposed, and elated all at the same time. She eventually turns away from me, and the three make their way towards the door, and I try desperately to keep working instead of going after her. If she can make me feel like this within just a few minutes of knowing her, what can she do to me with more time?

I pause, as my mind goes back to Katherine and how I felt about her the first time I met her, the first time we went on a date, the first time two bodies became one, and the first time I knew I was in love with her.

I feel Rose staring a hole into the side of my face.

"You're so stupid," she mutters, loud enough for me to hear her.

I already know what she means, and I know what I want to do; that's all I needed, some encouragement. I drop everything in my hands, and rush towards the door, brushing past the bouncer in my hurry, and notice the empty parking lot save just a handful of cars, all empty.

I hang my head, and walk back inside to get away from the chilly wind, and as I approach the door, Klaus, the bouncer, hands me a piece of paper.

A smile spreads across my face as I read the name just before a number on the back of the payment receipt from the club.

_Bella_.

.

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><p><strong>This is a little out of my comfort zone, but it just happened, and I literally wrote this in just a few hours of one day. The plot wouldn't leave my mind, and I haven't had any motivation to work on '<strong>_My Guardian Angel_**'. So I figured I'd give you guys something else. **

_Leave me a review, please. _


	2. First Dates

**Disclaimer: Twilight and Vampire Diaries belong to their respective owners. **

**Sweet _TheSuperNinja'sCrabcake_ beta'd this chapter. She tones down my crazy.  
><strong>

**Enjoy.**

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><p>"Jackson Height. I used to live in Jackson Height."<p>

My eyebrows rise in surprise, my eyes darting around her apartment in question. It's not a penthouse, but the view is beautiful. It's in central Manhattan, one of the more expensive areas in New York. She's got a small patio she can step on to, and there's only water to see. The breeze brings the smell of warmth and ocean with it, and I've never felt more at peace.

She laughs. "My dad's business recently soared sky high, and he got me this apartment as a present for all the times I helped him with work."

"I like it."

She smirks at me, bringing her beer bottle to her lips, taking a long sip. "I got that much since you insisted to have a date here." She hands me a bowl of chips. I take it with one hand, grabbing her with the other. I pull her so that her back presses against my front, my lips finding her neck.

"You smell so good," I whisper to her, my chest swelling when she shudders against me, a groan slipping from her lips.

She manages to make her way out of my arm before turning give me a quick wink, and sashaying off to the kitchen again. My eyes remain on her swaying ass.

"What are you making?"

Her head peeks at me from the wall separating her living room from her kitchen. "The only thing I _know_ how to make. Pasta. You can look around if you want; I'm sure there is a drawer or two left that you haven't been through."

Smiling is easy and as natural as breathing when I'm with her.

I slide my free hand through the little gap between the glass patio doors, pulling one open entirely. It's evening, but a little bit of the sun is still up, and I tilt my head back a little, enjoying the heat hitting my skin. I let my beer bottle rest on the balcony wall. The breeze is carrying the scent of fresh salt from the ocean, along with the distinct smell of fish, yet it comforts me in the oddest of ways. This had been the reason why Bella smelled like the ocean when I'd met her in the club.

I don't know how long I've been staring at the water, but I suspect Bella's done cooking when she joins me.

Her arms wind around me, her cheek pressing against my back. Her small hands move from around my waist towards my chest, laying one above my heart. Every nerve in my body seems to come alive at her touch. I can feel small buzzes moving down my arm, the sides of my torso, and I have to clench my hands on the balcony railing to stop from pulling her into a bruising kiss. If I do, I won't be able to stop…and now is not the time.

"You can see the planes fly from here, over that ocean and away. I've always wondered what it would feel to be on one, looking down at the water, the land, and people as tiny as little dots." Her voice is low, as if she's afraid to speak any louder in fear of bursting the bubble around us.

"You've never been on a plane?"

She chuckles, her warm breath contrasting the evening's air, sending a shiver down my spine. "I've never been outside of New York. I've always wanted to travel, though; I just never got the chance before my graduation."

"No summer travels or wild spring breaks?"

She pulls apart from me, spinning so that she's leaning against the balcony wall, facing me. My hand finds my bottle, nursing it.

"Nope, none of that. I started working at New York Daily after my general education courses at NYU, working the odd job here and there. By the time I was done with my Bachelors, they had me writing in the columns, small stories."

I tip my beer towards her. "Ambitious. I admire that." And I really do. If I had been that hard working, I would've finished my education to be a lawyer right now, working the eleven to seven hours, five days a week. But that wouldn't have been _living_. Becoming a lawyer had been my father's dream, mainly so that he could prove to everyone in Mystic Falls that his indecisive, flighty, and impulsive son would be the first lawyer that hadn't come from another town.

"And you? How long have you been working at _Carnal Desires_?"

"Since Charlie found me."

She pauses for a moment, her back straightening microscopically. "Charlie?"

"My boss."

The sides of her lips tilt upward. "Is he nice?"

I shrug. "He pays for my living and offers me a hefty salary. I can't complain."

"Do you ever plan on going back to Mystic Falls?"

"No."

"You sound so sure," she observes.

"I am."

"One day, Damon Salvatore…one day I'll get all the answers out of you."

X

X

Drunk. She's so drunk that she's giggling. It's kind of cute to see, but mostly hilarious.

"How do you know your limit of alcohol intake, then?" I ask her.

"When I know I'm starting to do something stupid."

"Like what?"

"Like…when I do something that makes my middle finger lift up to salute me."

Like I said, she's an amusing drunk.

Her sofas are small; it allows us to sit close enough so that the length of her thigh is touching mine. In the last two hours, I've learned that she can't cook to save her life, she hates technology, and the last movie she'd want to watch before dying is Avengers. A woman after my own heart…except the technology part. I sort of love my phone.

We had kept meeting over the last three weeks for a few minutes here and there whenever she got a break from writing; they were nothing like having a real date, though. It doesn't even feel like one. I remember the dates I've gone on previously—the fumbling awkwardness through dinner and talk…through everything until I'd tumble into bed with the woman of the night. The bedroom is the one place I'd always been most confident in—or anywhere, really, as long as clothes were off. But with Bella, there isn't anything that I have to keep quiet on. She can take my perverted comments and throw more back at me; she can take my sarcastic remarks and give it back just as good. We're compatible in that nature, and I'm more than curious to find if we're compatible in the physical department as well. I'm putting it off, though. I fear that as soon as we fall into bed and into that relationship, I'd lose the tingles and shivers she can make my body feel. I fear that she'll become one of those nameless women in my past and that's the last thing I want. .

Bella's head falls against my shoulder, and I spend a moment just taking her in. From her dark brown-reddish hair to her pale skin, from her thick eyelashes to her cute button nose. I let my fingers trace her soft, plump lips.

I maneuver myself out of her side, carefully picking her up in my arms to put her into bed. She's never had any alcoholic drinks with me, but now I know she's a lightweight…and I can't wait to tease her about it.

Her bedroom is all baby blue, almost greenish. I pull her comforter back with my sock covered feet, putting her down in the middle. I don't know how bad of a drunk she is, but I can only hope that she won't fall out from the side. I cover her up before moving towards the door. I don't want to leave her, yet I can't stay. Not yet.

The hardest part after spending time with Bella is going to an empty apartment where everything reminds me of the numbness that surrounds me whenever she's not around. It's almost like she's become a drug to me that I constantly need to escape the pain that Mystic Falls has given me. I don't want to be reminded of my hometown, of the church that Katherine had left me in, the alter where my father expressed his utter disappointment in me in front of the whole town. I rub my eyes and hope the time moves faster, just so that I can text Bella and feel my heart beat speed up just a little, reminding me that I _am_ alive.

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><p><strong>These are one-shots, so they won't be in consecutive order of the relationship advancing, but rather the main parts, such as the big steps and healing. :)<strong>

_Leave me a review, please. _


	3. First Pets

I knock on the thick wooden door of Charlie's office. It's located in the basement—at least his real office is. The one that the rest of the workers know about rests on the second floor, equipped with a pseudo metal-albeit empty-locker. I'm the only one who knows about his secret hideout.

"Boss?" I open the door without waiting for his response; I never do.

He doesn't look up from his laptop. His square glasses are perched on the softly crooked bone of his nose. His eyes glance briefly to the right side of the room, watching the fishes move in front of the piles of money. He's filthy rich; he knows it, and his workers know it, but I'm the only employee who has seen the wealth that hides in the bulletproof, clear locker behind the six-hundred galleon, floor to ceiling fish tank.

"I need to clock out early."

"When?" He grunts out.

"Uh, right now."

His fingers halt on his laptop keys. One of his eyebrows cocks up at me. "And you're telling me this now?"

I shrug at him. Even if Bella had asked me to come along with her at an earlier notice, I probably wouldn't have mentioned it to him any sooner. "Rose is here, and so is Lucy. They can cover."

"Will you be back at night?"

"Boss," I pause briefly. "It's Wednesday. I doubt there will be a rush coming in tonight."

"Fine," he barks out before pushing his glasses up his nose and turning back to his laptop screen. "Go."

I tap his door twice as a farewell. It's hard to maneuver out of here, as it's dark and the office is behind the tiny stairs. I make a stop at the bathroom, running a hand through my hair and spritzing some cologne on to mask the scent of alcohol.

I wink at Rose before I leave, and she rolls her eyes before giving me the thumbs up. She doesn't show it, but she's happy that I'm bothering somebody else and not her.

I walk out the door, breathing in the humid air; it doesn't ruin my mood. The streets are crowded as always; it's lunch rush, and we're nestled in a corner with corporate buildings littering the rest of the block. The sound of high heels used to alert me to a potential night partner, but my mind is concentrated on getting to the Central Park as fast as I can today.

I want to know what has Bella so excited.

It's not a long walk, and I hold up my phone to my ear to ask her where she is. A sudden weight on my back knocks the breath out of me, and an arm goes around my shoulder. Bella's chuckle sounds in my ear and the vibrations reverberate through me.

"Hi," she murmurs, her lips ever so gently grazing the shell of my ear.

"Hey yourself," I whisper back. "What's up?"

"Love," she replies in a serious tone.

I choke on air, laughing. "What?"

"I'm in love with this cute little guy that I just have to buy."

"You've lost me."

She jumps off, moving in front of me to pull me along. The sweet grin on her face makes my chest clench. The humidity of the afternoon New York air is sweltering. She's wearing a long tank top that has pretty little straps that I want to slide down her shoulders to put my lips against the bare of her skin. My jeans stick to my skin even as the steady wind provides little comfort.

"See, I met this woman who is selling puppies, and I really want to buy one, but she only sells them in pairs, and I don't want to separate the little cuties, so I called you."

I admit that I wasn't paying as much attention to what she was saying as I was to the way she walked. I don't think I'd even seen a woman walk this way; the way her hips moved side to side with each step called out to me, yet each confident stride screamed out, "Don't touch." I followed her as if she were a siren, calling out specifically to _me_.

Something wet slides down the back of my hand, and I look down at the white puppy with its tongue wagging out with a frown.

I groan. "No, Bella."

She turns to me, her eyes wide and shiny, her bottom lip out in a pout that I want to bite. "But they're so cute and so fluffy!"

"It's slobbering over my hand already!"

She turns to the puppy, putting both her hands on her hips. "Bad puppy," she scolds. The tiny devil cocks its head to the side, its wide black eyes staring at Bella. And then it sits down on its tiny paws, wagging its tail languidly, as if waiting on instructions. Bella looks at me in triumph. "See!"

"I'm not coming over to your place again if you get that thing."

She bites down on her bottom lip, her eyes staring at the woman holding the leash on the dog in guilt.

"What did you do?" I ask.

"Well, see... she only sells the puppies in pairs and I can't take care of two, nor do I have the room."

"What does that hav-No." I shake my head. "Hell no."

"Damon." She pouts further, and I can feel my resolve weakening. "We could have play dates for them together!"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please?"

"No."

"I'll go skinny dipping with you!"

"N-what?" I raise my eyebrows at her.

A blush tints her cheeks. "Uh, I mean..."

"Na uh." I wrap an arm around her waist. "You can't get out of a deal once it's made."

"That was a slip of the tongue; I didn't actually mean it."

"You were thinking it. Freudian slip, hmm?"

She buries her head in my chest, and I ease up a little on her. I wouldn't force her into doing something she's not comfortable with, even if the thought of seeing her skin with water droplets that I'd want to lick off is now etched into my mind permanently.

"Does this mean you're agreeing?" She mumbles into my chest.

"Can we at least get a manly one?"

She shakes her head, her side bangs ruffling against my shirt. "I like him."

"Where is his twin?"

The woman with the wool shawl trains her eyes on me. "You wait. He's coming."

I drop my head to put my cheek against Bella's head, warily looking over the woman. "Is this sale going to be legit?"

She nods. "Yeah, certificate of purchase and proof of shots are available; I've already checked 'em."

"Did you just meet her walking around in the park?"

The guilty look comes back. "Uh, no. I arranged the meeting?" She doesn't phrase it in a statement.

"Where did you meet her?"

She hesitates. "Craigslist."

"Bella!"

"He's here," the woman interrupts. She blows a bubble with her blue gum, popping it loudly between her teeth.

Bella's face lights up. She looks like a little kid on Christmas morning. A tall man with a beanie over his long, blond hair walks over towards us, carrying a pup with brown fur and black eyebrows in his arms, holding him as if the furry thing is a kid.

He lifts his chin at us. "What's up, man?"

Bella and I blink back at him, our eyes darting at him and then to the bundle in his arms. "Nothing much," I reply in a monotone. "That it?" I nod towards his hands.

"This is Chino, yeah." He nods real slow, as if his brain is barely aware of what he's saying. He looks high, and I worry about Bella's safety when he leers at her. I go through plans in my mind to put a parental control over Craigslist on her laptop. And her phone. And her iPad.

She takes a step away from me, and reaches into her Louis Vuitton bag to pull out an envelope.

"Eight hundred dollars as you asked," she says brightly, her grin wide.

The woman's eyes narrow at the gold plaque adorning the bag, and I can practically see the dollar signs in her eyes. "Fifteen hundred," she demands as the pup by her feet lets out a soft whine.

Bella's eyes widen. "What? When we talked, you said eight hundred."

"I change mind now."

I roll my eyes, briefly wondering where she is from due to her broken English.

"Listen, Lady, either you can give us the dogs at the proposed price or we can take our business elsewhere," I scoff.

She shrugs, the wool falling over her shoulder to reveal unhealed marks that look suspiciously like cigarette burns. I push down the anger that erupts inside of me, knowing that Bella has put herself in risk by meeting someone carelessly. The only solace I have is that she called me, and she made the meeting place public.

Was it the man high on drugs that caused those marks? The woman pulls the fallen shawl over her shoulders again, her brown eyes narrowing in distrust.

"Go." She waves her hand at us, and when Bella hesitates, I wrap an arm tight around her shoulders to steer the opposite direction.

"A tip for next time: bring a cheap bag."

"Damon," she whispers, "I really wanted him."

I rub her shoulder soothingly. "I know. And I'll find you one just like him."

_Shut up._

"Really?" She looks up at me, her brown eyes wide and so _innocent_.

"This week," I promise.

_Shut up, shut up, shut up._

I don't even know what I'm saying at this point. I've never been to a dog pound or a pet shop in my life; I have no idea where to buy a dog, or what kind of things I'll need for him. I just don't like seeing the heartbroken expression on her face.

"I already bought the food and the crate and the bed..." she trails off in a little voice, and my chest hurts. I rub the area above the heart to soothe it.

"Wait," a voice calls out behind us.

We turn to see the man running towards us, his eyes red and droopy. "I can give ya'll the white pup for nine."

Fire flares in Bella's eyes. "She told me that the two couldn't be separated and that was the price for both."

"This is NYC, little miss. The prices are high as the skyscrapers. And don't pay attention to Jane; she doesn't know half the things she says. Nine hundred is the final price."

Bella looks down for a bit before lifting her chin up high. This is what I adore in her; whatever gets her down only succeeds for a minute. "I have only eight hundred right now." She shrugs, turning around.

He grips the strap of her bag, pulling her back, leaving her wide-eyed at the sudden force.

I let go of her, grabbing the collars of his jacket.

He startles.

"Don't touch her," I growl.

"Sorry, man. I was just gonna say that she can trade her bag for the dog."

My lips pull back in a humorless grin. "A bag well worth over two grand? No thanks."

"Your loss, dude," he drawls out.

I push him back, pulling my hands free of him. Bella grasps my arm, moving us in a slower pace towards the lake. The shadows under the tree offer a little bit of cold from the summer's heat, but the irritation is still flaring in my veins. I could so easily see why the couple would raise the price, but Bella still seems a bit miffed by it. I don't blame her, though this incident has shown me just how good she is. She doesn't see the worse in people-which is something that a New York resident becomes accustomed to once they've lived here.

The woman follows us, pushing forward to walk in front, parading the furry beast on her leash.

"Do you think he'll be okay with her?"

"The dog? I'm sure he'll be fine."

"Are you heading back to work?"

"No, I took the day off."

She raises her eyebrows at me.

"I want to show you my place," I inform. I had it cleaned this morning with the thought of finally letting her see my hide out.

Her mouth drops into a small 'o'. And then she wiggles her eyebrows at me suggestively, causing me to forget everything else in the world except the woman in front of me who has yet to push me away regardless of how much I haven't told her of my past.

The white pup barks again, pulling her attention away from me. As much as she tries to hide it, I can see the dip of her eyebrows and the downturn of her lips, which shows just how despondent she is to be returning home alone tonight.

A sigh escapes me. "Do you want him that much?"

"I've never had a pet. My dad always told me to wait until I was settled in my house and job before I took on a responsibility for another living thing. And I really thought this would be it, you know?" She tries to shrug it off. "I'm just disappointed; I'll get over it."

I drop my head to put my chin on my chest. Disappointment-a feeling that I've been aware of all too much in my life. My father's own words come back to me; him telling me how disappointed he was in me when I was little, him asking me why I was never like Stefan, him saying that he's disappointed that I pushed even Katherine away.

I pull out my wallet from my back pocket, grabbing eight hundred and nearly stomp to where the devil incarnated is sitting quietly. She smiles in triumph, showing her yellowed teeth.

"Eight hundred for one; it's still fifty more than what you wanted for both initially. It's my last offer."

She shrugs, handing me the lease and folded papers from the pockets of her hole-ridden khakis. "Pleasure doing business with you," she replies sweetly, taking the cash from my hands and nearly skipping away.

I look down at the dog with a confused expression. It cocks its head to the side just like I do.

"Walk," I order him, but he remains seated on his paws. "Great; gotta train you, too."

The excitement is clear on Bella's face as she practically vibrates in her spot. I mention her over with a flick of my head, and hand her the lease as soon as she's close enough. I'm not a dog person. She grabs the envelope from her bag and tries to hand it to me before I push it back.

"It's a gift," I explain.

"Damon, I can't-"

"I'll go return him."

She looks startled, then realizes I'm just joking and hits me on my arm.

She coos, kneeling beside him to scratch behind his ears. I can't tell much, but I think he's smiling. Or something. He's just playful.

She unclips the filthy collar from his neck, tossing it in the trash can by the bench before pulling out a shiny blue one out of her bag. She clips it on him as he barks and tries to make rounds around her, and she lets out this pretty little laugh that makes everything seem like sunshines and beaches around me.

I can endure him.

"What should we name him?" she questions me with bright eyes.

"I'm partial to 'pup'."

She rolls her bambi-like eyes at me. "How about Google?"

"Pretty sure there's a copy-right on that name."

"What about Zero?"

I make a face.

"No? Snowball? He is white as snow."

"Why not something normal like Tommy?"

"You're no fun." She pouts. Then her lips turn into a smirk, a spark in her eyes. "What about Damon Jr.?"

"I will set him free at night if you name him that."

"Munchkin?"

"He's yours. You decide."

She bites down on her bottom lip, and I want to tug it free only to do the same. "But I want to pick a name that you like. You're going to be over a lot and he'll probably be seeing you around. . ."

There's another feeling in my chest again, but something more akin to happiness. It doesn't hurt-it just leaves me breathless. "I like the name Google."

"Does it make you feel like you're doing something badass?"

I wink at her, smirking. She curls her hand around my arm again, and it's perfect for a few minutes before Google decides that he wants to step between us, and we can only hold hands. He's acting almost like a chaperone. I glare at his little face; he swishes his tail at me in turn, prancing away with his head held high.

Bella snickers. "It's a good thing he'll be staying with me. There might not be enough room for the two egos at your place."

"I don't think pets are allowed at my place."

She honestly looks horrified. "What would you have done if we'd gotten both of them?"

"I would've given one to Rose."

"I didn't take her for a dog person."

I smirk. "She's not."

She matches my smirk. "Why didn't you say something about that earlier?"

I rub the back of my neck, wondering the same thing. But I don't really need words around her, and she kisses me sweetly before Google interrupts and we head over to her place in the end for a late lunch.

I've realized that I'd probably do a lot of stuff just to see her smile.

I merely need to come to terms with it now.

And watching her move her hips to whatever song is playing on her iTouch is making it easier and easier by the minute.

* * *

><p><strong>I know-I made you guys wait a lot. BUT since My Guardian Angel has officially been marked 'Complete', I have a little more time to work on this. I'm hoping to post the next one-shot this month. :) <strong>

**What did you think of this little chappie? Tell me things! :) **


	4. First Fights

"What time do you get off?" The blonde woman purrs into my ear as she leans over the countertop of the bar.

"Eleven."

"I can wait until then."

"Sorry, sweetheart; I already have plans." I smirk at her to ease the blow, sending a shot of Patron her way with no intention of putting it on her tab.

Bella's sitting on her table with the same two girls that had come with her the first night. Her dress isn't as tight, though, but it's short so I can't complain. She watches me with careful eyes, and I would've mistaken her for being jealous if it hadn't been for the slight amusement that passes across her face every few minutes. She's enjoying me squirming to do right by her-not as a test, but because she knows she deserves it.

Her confidence sets her apart from the nameless women in my past.

The woman in front of me pouts in disappointment, straightening her back. "I'll wait until then to see anyway." She winks at me, taking the shot glass to walk back to her group of friends.

Rose gives me a strange look.

"What?" I question her.

"Things must be serious if you're turning down women left and right. Charlie's going to be out of business soon," she teases.

"Things aren't serious, they're _fun_."

She raises an eyebrow. "Sure seems like it. Have you made it official?"

"I've never understood that term."

She gives me another look, but the bar is crowding as Friday night party groups barge in and we get pulled apart to keep the customers happy.

In a way, it's a blessing; there's only so much I talk to Rose about Bella without sounding like a lovesick fool. And knowing Rose, she would pick up on the littlest of emotions. The last thing I need is everyone knowing about my private business regarding Bella. That should remain just between her and me.

If others know, it would make the bubble surrounding the two of us pop.

The blonde that was sitting with Bella is now waiting patiently at a bar, twiddling a black straw between her nimble fingers. She looks like a bourbon kind of girl. I pour the amber liquid into an ice-filled glass, sliding it over to her before attending to another customer.

She doesn't react except to wave Rose away. She doesn't move until Sage arrives with a box of full alcohol bottles. The blonde friend waves me over specifically, her eyes following my every move.

"What can I get you?"

She uses an index finger to firmly push away the glass of bourbon. "I didn't order this."

"It's on me."

"Let me rephrase. I don't want it."

I stare at her, using the moment to take in her relaxed posture and stiff, nonchalant expression. I glance behind her to Bella, and she's watching carefully. She catches my eye and smiles reassuringly.

It's a friend's test or something.

"If you're going to threaten me, can we at least exchange names first?" I ask dryly.

"Rosalie. And I'm not here to threat."

"Seems like it. Is there something else I can get you first?"

"I won't take long. You need to beat it."

My head snaps up to her. "Excuse me?"

"Bella doesn't need a deadbeat guy who isn't going to give her a stable relationship."

My eyes narrow unintentionally. "Listen, lady, you don't know shit about me-"

"I know that you have no real job, and your future doesn't look too good. Bella's climbing the ladder, so to speak, and you have no place in her life."

So much for living in a bubble.

I lean over the bar, swallowing the growl down my throat. "Funny how she says the opposite."

"She doesn't know what she wants."

"And you know her better?"

"I've known her my entire life." She tilts her chin up snottily, and I can't help but compare her to Bella. How in the world are they friends? Bella's surrounded by this glow of fun; she's wild and spontaneous, but simultaneously caring. Rosalie, on the other hand, is calculating, manipulative, and doesn't want her friends to know what exactly she's up to—if her posture is anything to go by. It would look like an easy conversation between two friends were it not for her expression.

"How about you let her tell me that, and I'll bugger off. Until then, enjoy the Bourbon. You look like you need it desperately."

I slam the glass down onto the counter, giving a sweet smile before sauntering away, the dark glare burning into my back. It's obvious she's looking for a reaction, for something that she can use against me further, but I refuse to give her any leverage.

My mood is dark. I barely communicate with anyone as I pour drinks left and right, mixing sweet cocktails and throat busters. Rose and Sage steer clear of me, with good reason.

Bella doesn't come up to the bar even once; she's laughing with her friends and sitting alone when the two are dancing. The twisted feeling of possessiveness and satisfaction bubbles inside of me knowing that she isn't dancing with _anyone_. The anger at her not so much as approaching me all night overrides every other emotion.

And I wonder how so many feelings can creep up over me in the span of an hour.

The DJ plays a loud and fast song, attracting most of the people away from the drinks and to the dance floor. Rose immediately grabs my arm, dragging me towards the back closet where the alcohol boxes litter.

"What is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with _you_? We're busy," I snap, pulling away from me. She's stronger than she looks and digs her nails into my flesh. I hiss at her and stop struggling.

"Bella's been waiting all night for you to slip over to her and ask her to dance."

"Really? Is that why she hasn't talked to me even once?"

"Because then you'll be the bartender, not her boyfriend. You should go over there and introduce yourself to her friends and ask her to dance." Rose puts her fists on her hips, her bangs falling over her eyes as she shakes her head at me.

"She knew what I did for a living; she shouldn't be ashamed." Rose gawks at me. "She'll get over it. I gotta go work."

I tug my arm away from her.

"D, that's not what I meant-"

"No, it's _exactly_ what you mean. Why does everyone think they have the right to judge me? Why does everything think they can tell me to do something and I'll do it?"

I stomp back out to join the world of party-crazed people, and I will myself to not look in Bella's direction at all. She should've stopped by me when she came in. She should've ordered drinks from me. She should've talked to me after her friend did.

What if _Rosalie_ only said what Bella wanted to say herself? Was she afraid to say it?

I glower at the glasses, wiping at the counter angrily.

Fuck this.

This is why I don't do all that emotional shit.

As the hours tick by, the anger starts to coil its way around my stomach to my chest, threatening to grip my lungs if I don't do something to ease it. It's never been like this. I haven't been this angry since Father kicked me out of the house after Katherine hightailed from the altar. This time, it isn't just anger. I know how to react with rage-I run. I get away from everything that is bothering me and don't come back until it isn't.

There is helplessness laced with the anger this time, and it's something I'm not familiar with. Rose keeps sending me concerned looks, but I don't care. She was careless and thoughtless when she confronted me, just as Bella was all night.

Finn clocks in. He grabs the towel from my shoulder, nods at me in greeting.

"Damon," Rose starts as I head towards the back door.

"Later." I lift my hand and wave to her over my shoulder without turning around. I can't wait to leave.

The rush of the cold air makes my lungs burn, but it's better than the coil that's still twisting and poking. I rub my chest to ease it.

My legs twitch with the need to run. I want nothing more than to get on my motorcycle and drive so far that the mere memory of tonight will take years to catch up to me. I crave the fluttering of the wind against my skin and hair. I crave the speed.

I huff into the empty lot.

Seconds later, I'm heading into the basement towards Charlie's office. I need a few days off. I need a chance to breathe and think without the stupid, emotional thoughts of Bella surrounding me. As much as I want to go to her and demand an explanation, there's a part of me that's holding back from doing so. Even in this anger, I don't want to lose her. I just need the ability to think clearly without _feelings_ clouding my judgment.

Or maybe I just need to get away from _her_.

The constant shadow of my former life darkening my present.

Something grips me the closer I get to Charlie's door. Can I really leave Bella like this? The fear of the numbness coming back the further I get from Bella makes me recoil.

No, I can't. I shouldn't.

Communicate.

We need to communicate.

Right.

I shake my head, taking the first step up when I hear _her_ voice. Customers aren't allowed downstairs. Customers don't even _know_ about this basement.

I fling open the door, and I blink as I find Bella sitting on the chair behind the desk. The chair that Charlie never leaves. The chair that he adamantly believes is the best chair in the world. The chair that he believes is the 'mother' chair of all chairs.

"Damon," Charlie greets from the liquor table. He's holding two glasses filled with scotch.

My throat is closed up; I'm trying to make sense of this.

When I don't respond, he continues, "Come meet my daughter, Bella."

"Hello, Damon," Bella quips from her perch, smirking as if she's in on a secret that no one else knows.

It pisses me off even _more_.

I nod at her stiffly, barely noticing her confused expression.

"I need a week off," I tell Charlie.

"Is everything okay?"

"I'm heading up north," I lie.

He sighs. He knows he's not getting anything out of me, and he knows I won't stay.

"Be back in a week, okay?" He asks sternly.

Bella cocks her head to the side when I nod, but I refuse to look her in the eyes. I let the door shut behind me and take the steps two at a time to put distance between her and me before I can talk myself out of it.

There's a slight comfort at doing something I'm good at, for doing something impulsive. The rush of adrenaline is soothing and temporarily grasps at the coil poking in my chest.

I don't tell Rose anything. I don't need to-she's well acquainted with these types of getaways.

I feel Bella more than I see her once I reach the parking lot. I walk wordlessly to my motorcycle.

Her fingers snake around my wrist gently, prompting me to look at her. The sheer hurt on her face punches me in the gut.

"What's going on?"

I force my voice to be even. "What do you mean?"

"You're taking the week off to go somewhere; obviously something's happened. What's wrong?"

She looks concerned.

"You suddenly care?"

"Excuse me?"

"You haven't talked to me all night, and when you do, it's to pretend that we're meeting the first time in front of your father?"

"I didn't want to blind-sight you in case you didn't want to tell him." She looks exasperated. "I was trying to be thoughtful. I wanted to talk to you before telling him."

"And when were you going to tell me you're the daughter of my boss?" I narrow my eyes at her, betrayal and hurt lacing my voice.

"I didn't know how to approach that subject."

I step closer to her, our noses almost touching. I can smell the beer on her breath, I can see the specks of gold swarming around in her brown eyes, and I can feel the slight rise and fall of her chest as it brushes against mine every few movements. "Are you ashamed of me, Bella?"

Her brows come together and her nostrils flare. I don't let her get a word in.

"Is that why you didn't tell me about Charlie? Is that why Charlie doesn't know we're dating? Is that why you didn't come talk to me all night? Is that why your friend told me to 'beat it'?"

Her lips part in surprise, her eyes widening. "Rosalie told you _what_?"

"_You_ sent her to me."

She throws her hands up in the air in frustration. "I thought she just wanted to _talk_."

"Right."

"And I'm _not_ ashamed of you. I didn't tell Dad because he talks so fondly of you, and I didn't want the relationship you two have to get weird. I'm _sorry_ for being so _thoughtless_ of wanting to talk to you on how to approach that subject with my dad; I wanted the two of us to be on the same page. I didn't talk to you all night because I wanted you to come to _me. _I didn't want you to feel like you had to give me free drinks because I'm your girlfriend. I wanted to talk to _Damon_, not the man working today. Would that have been possible if I'd come to the _bar_?" Her breathing gets heavier, as does my frown. "I didn't tell you about Charlie because I didn't want to ruin things between us."

She sniffles, her arms coming together against her chest. "But I was wrong, I guess. Have you ever thought that maybe the shame you're imagining to be mine is _yours_? I have no problem with you being a bartender, but you might."

Numb.

The coil, the hurt, and the pull in my chest are all gone. I gasp for breath as I try to regain control over things. This had been what I wanted. I had wanted the hurt to disappear, and now that it has and the numbness settles over me, I want it all back.

Bella's anger climbs as I don't respond. "And you have no right to be mad at me about what I haven't told you. You know about my life, my plans, and now my father. I know _nothing_ about you. I don't know your hometown, I don't know your birth date, and I don't know about your family. If anyone here has the right to be mad, it's me!"

Reality hits me square in the face. She's right. She's so right that the pain hits me square in the chest and leaves me breathless.

"There you are," a voice rings out from behind Bella. The blonde woman from earlier catches up to us, her hand immediately sprawling out on my chest. "Ready to come home with me, handsome?"

Bella huffs, her spine straightening. Her eyes color red a little, but she glares at me and stomps back inside the club before I can stop her.

I pull apart from the woman clinging to me.

"That ship has sailed long ago, baby," she sings. She's drunk enough to stumble and not be able to drive home, so I hail a cab to drop her off at whatever address she gives the driver. Just as she settles in and I'm about to close the door, a red BMW squeals out the parking lot, Bella's eyes trained on me sadly.

I curse.

She wouldn't think that I'd be going home with this woman, would she? She wouldn't... she _knows_ me.

Except she doesn't. I didn't tell her much about me, and all she's known of me are from my actions.

And if she's related to Charlie, she already knows my history with women.

Fuck.

I tug my helmet on, and hop onto my Ducati, peeling out of the lot.

Riding has always given me the feeling of freedom that I'd desperately craved, but it's not the same today. It's been a symbol of being free for me since I left Mystic Falls; women would know my intention from my ride alone. And today, I find myself wanting the comfort of a car to prove to Bella that I am serious about her and us.

I waste no time to ride across the Brooklyn Bridge and hop onto the 278 Interstate. I drive aimlessly, going south and south until the freeways change and the sun begins to peek up, coloring the dark sky and casting it into a light shadow.

I stop at a gas station when I can't drive any longer. It's empty, except for the cashier working behind a bullet-proof glass in a lone booth. I sit on the curb next to the gas pump, running my hand through my hair. If I keep doing it long enough, I can almost imagine it to be Bella's hand and feel the warmth of her sitting next to me.

And she would be, if I asked her. If I asked her to run away with me and forget about the things back home, she would come with me. She'd never let me do it alone. She wouldn't force me to move forward if she thought I wasn't ready for it. She'd help me get to my feet without rushing me.

That's another one of the things that sets her apart from Katherine. Katherine would selfishly want what's best for her. She couldn't handle people not liking her; she wanted to be loved by everyone just to use it to her advantage. She pretended to be someone she wasn't to achieve that means, whereas people drifted towards Bella because of her natural warmth.

Bella's kind, and sweet, and above all, she believes in me in ways that even I don't.

We click together. We fit together like puzzle pieces.

Katherine and I were like a candle feeding on time, on the moment that was fleeting, whereas Bella and I are like rising flames that only feed on our feelings.

_I have no problem with you being a bartender, but you might. _

And she knows me in ways I can't even comprehend. I loved my job working at a club, but it feels like I'm a different person today than I was two months ago. Could I really want to do more?

Laughter bubbles in my chest, and I let a few slip past my lips. I'd moved away from Mystic Falls and Katherine, but I'd never really let go of her. Now that I am in Virginia and so close to Mystic Falls, all I can think about is Bella's deep eyes and her soft lips.

Until now.

How could I let my past relationship cloud the one that is blooming right now?

I was such an asshole.

I waste no time in turning my route around and heading back to the one person who had waited for me patiently to catch up to her.

By the time I reach Bella's building, the sun is high in the sky, and the streets are crowding with the lunch rush.

My palms are sweaty and my heart is hammer in my chest, but giddiness makes me forget about everything.

I knock on her door, preparing myself for her wrath and her tears.

When the door opens, the mere sight of her leaves me breathless. She's never done as I ever expected. Even now, she looks professional in her body-hugging, royal blue dress and her hair piled into a messy bun.

She blows her side bangs away from her eyes, her expression cautious. "You look wrecked."

"I had a long night."

"I bet," she mutters under her breath. She crosses her arms over her chest and leans on the doorsill. "What can I do for you?"

"Can we talk?"

"Can you take a shower and come back?"

I fight back a smirk. "I've been on the road since last night. Least you could do is offer me some coffee."

She looks surprised, and then unbelieving.

I don't mind her doubting me. Last night looked pretty bad.

I pull out the crumbled gas receipt from Richmond and thrust it into her hand. Her brows furrow when she glances down at it.

"We need to talk," I state.

She opens the door wider, tilting her head to mention me inside. Her laptop is open with various papers scattered all over the coffee table, her heels lying carelessly by it.

Her bare feet make pit-pat sound on the wooden floor, and a smile touches my lips unintentionally.

The place smells comforting, even with her balcony door closed. I fall back onto her couch while she steps into the kitchen.

For a moment, it's silent except for the slight noise of the coffee maker. For a moment, I can pretend that it's just the two of us without the big, pink elephant in the room. I can pretend that I hadn't pissed her off last night, that I hadn't hurt her, but the defeated expression remains at the forefront of my mind.

She hands me a mug with the back half of a gun as the handle.

I raise my eyebrows at her in question. I've never seen a coffee mug like this one in her kitchen. She cocks a bitch brow in retaliation.

Hint taken.

I clear my throat. "How are you?"

"Swamped with work. I don't have to ask you how you are."

I pout. "I've had a rough night. Be a little nice to me."

She rolls her eyes and her lips quirk up into a tiny smile. It's the first time I notice the dark circles around her eyes and the slow blinking.

She's tired. She hadn't slept a wink last night.

Just like me.

She's sitting so close to me, that I can smell the calming scent of her perfume and the sweet, soothing smell of her lotion. I want to touch her, but I know that if I do, I'll never get through this conversation with a clear mind.

She stares at me with the big doe eyes that make me want to spill my deepest secrets without a worry that she'll judge me. Even after what I put her through last night, she's still sitting next to me, silently coaxing me to speak what's on my mind. No questions asked.

"Why are you like this?" I blurt out.

"Pardon?" Her brows furrow in confusion.

"You should be mad at me. You should've kicked me to the curb, yet you made me coffee."

"I can do that now," she threatens. But it's all fake. I know she won't throw me out; perhaps it's her curiosity or maybe she just can't bring herself to do as she says.

"Isn't there _anything_ you want to ask me about last night?"

"_Is_ there something you want to tell me?"

I slam the cup down on the table. "Stop deflecting, damn it!" Her attitude is making me mad, and I can see irritation brimming around her.

She throws her hands up in the air, huffing. "What else can I do? You start deflecting the moment a conversation gets too personal! It's better to just let you lead the conversation than walk on egg shells around you."

And just like that, the anger dissipates. Startled, I realize that I've put her in the same position that Katherine has always put me in. I couldn't carry a proper conversation with her as she had the need to dictate nearly every minute we spent together.

I never wanted to make Bella feel that way.

We had been different. We weren't like my failed relationship; we weren't anything from the past, and I needed to stop letting that dictate my present.

"I'll stop," I blurt out.

She stares at me as if I've lost my mind, but there's a sudden feeling of euphoria spreading through me at the prospect of communicating and letting all the burden from my mind and my shoulders fall free.

I rub my hands together. "Okay, if we're going to have this conversation, I need something a lot stronger."

Bella eyes me warily, sighing, and wordlessly pads to her kitchen. She comes back with two glasses—with no handles, thankfully—and a bottle of malt liquor.

"Start," she commands, pouring us each a glass.

And I tell her about my life, starting with the pressure of being the older son to becoming the disappointing one. I tell her about my father and his constant list of complaints about me and praises about my little brother. I tell her about Stefan and what it's like to fade into the background as the younger brother shines so brightly.

And then I finally tell her about Katherine. I don't hold back, because I know it's only so that she can understand where I'm coming from rather than judging me.

She remains quiet, patient as I talk, and most of all, her expression never gazes at me in pity.

I sit back when I realize I'd said everything that I'd always kept inside for so long. The emotions that were bottled were so catalytic that they were suffocating me from inside out, yet when worded out loud, I can only wonder how two people can cause so much damage.

Bella doesn't respond. She fiddles with her hands, her eyes finally downcast at them.

"Say something," I implore, my fingers twitching to touch her.

She shrugs a shoulder, her brows pulled together. "Is that why you went to Virginia? To see Katherine?"

"What? No!" I rub my hands over my face. "I didn't even realize where I was headed. All I know is that you were the one on my mind."

"It seems like you're not over her, Damon." Her voice is so low, that I strain to hear. "Am I just a rebound?"

I release a breath from between my teeth, sitting on the floor in front of her on my knees. "You're not a rebound, baby." I dare to touch her cheek to prompt her to look me in the eye.

Her nose tints read and her eyes glaze over. She's struggling to keep her composure, but I want her to lose it. We need to talk without any walls, and I make the first step to do so.

"You keep me on my toes like crazy, and you're insane, but you're _mine_. I haven't smiled as much as I have with months I've been with you all my life. Ask Rose if you'd like. And it's crazy because I haven't even known you long but somehow . . . you've become a big part of my life—of my _heart_. And I know it's not going to make the shit I put you through go away, but I just want you to know that I'm going to try harder to become the man you deserve."

Her hands hold my cheeks closer to her, and she puts her forehead against mine. "_You_ drive _me_ insane. But I really, really like you. Just the way you are. Whatever Rose said, or whoever said, ignore it. I'll tell Charlie right now if you want." She fumbles around to look for her phone, but I pull her hands into mine.

"Right now, I just want _you_. I don't want to talk about Charlie or Rosalie."

"Just Damon and Bella." She nods.

"Yeah."

She schools her expression to a mock-serious one. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"Of course."

"Good. Don't hide things from me, or I'll kick you in the shin."

I snort, burying my face in her neck.

"Or I'll sic Google on you."

I knew I was missing something. It's too quiet here for the furball to be hiding.

As always, she already knows what I'm thinking. "Rose took him for a walk. I couldn't look at him without thinking of you . . ." She bites her bottom lip nervously.

"Do you have to go to work today?"

She shakes her head.

"Tomorrow?"

"No."

"Good. I have a week off, too." I lean closer to her, our lips barely brushing against each other. "Tell _Rose_ to keep him over. I plan to occupy your attention otherwise."

* * *

><p><strong>Extra long chapter to make up for the wait. Finals are coming up, but then vacation! I'll write until my fingers fall. :) <strong>


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